


Dancing Queen

by Old_Friends_Bookends



Series: Prompt Fills. [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Teenlock, prom au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:24:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Old_Friends_Bookends/pseuds/Old_Friends_Bookends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft and Greg attend their school prom.</p><p>Mycroft is 17, Greg is 18 and they attend the same Sixth form school. At the end of their last year, the school put on a lavish, black tie prom.</p><p>Prompt: Mystrade  teen fic with a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing Queen

**Author's Note:**

> I am sick so I decided to write. I hope you readers like it. 
> 
> As always, Kudos and comments would be amazing! 
> 
> I have tumblr :3 yay. FatcroftHolmes.tumblr.com

H-hey, Grego--"

"Myc! Just the guy I was looking for! We have to finish this project. I need to pass."

The project Greg was talking about was something to do with their Criminology class. Mycroft would have finished it within hours, had he been working on his own. But no. He had to work with Gregory. Greg Lestrade with his dazzling chocolate eyes and perfect puckered lips. Damn it. Stop thinking about his perfect lips, Holmes!

"I was wondering if per-"

Greg patted Mycroft on the back and then went back to smoking the cigarette he had between his lips. Mycroft couldn't help but think what else would look good between those lips...

"Spit it out then, Mycie?" Greg chuckled.

"Prom!"

Greg stared blankly at him, confusion clear on his face.

Maybe this was a bad idea? Oh well, too late to stop now.

"I-I.. there's a p-prom. With school, you know. Obviously you do. Anyway... I thought that maybe we could go - together - o-or not. Whatever you decide. Friends is always good. Or not at all. W-whatever." Mycroft finished with a shrug.

Greg winced and dropped his cigarette, stamping it out as he glances to Mycroft.

"I would, " he started, "I really would love to. But you see, I already asked Molls. She's really cool. Maybe we could go out though? Get a drink after it all?"

Mycroft fought down the feeling of rejection and shook his head. The smile that he wore must have been Oscar worthy because Greg accepted it without much fuss.

"Shit" Greg cried when he saw the time. "Gotta go. Rugby practice. I'll see you later though? In lesson? We still have to finish the project!"

He ran off before Mycroft had chance to answer.

Mycroft, not wanting to face all the knowing stares and annoying tittering, picked up his bag from his locker and headed home early.

 

{oOo}

 

"Uh, Sher-"

"What the hel- SHERLOCK!"

Mycroft growled as he pushed past the four foot mass that was John Watson and entered his bedroom.

His eyes grew wide at the sight, his ten year old brother, arse over tit, trying to look under his bed.

"Sherlock run! I'll save you!" John valiantly threw his arms around Mycroft's middle. His arms weren't long enough to reach around the slender frame.

Sherlock's curls bounced around as he grabbed a fist full of Mycroft's secret magazines. It seemed like a Mexican stand-off between the boys until Sherlock leapt from the bed with alarming speed an ran as fast as his little legs would carry him, which wasn't very fast.

Mycroft managed to scoop his younger brother up in his arms and swipe back the magazines. A grim look on his face.

Both Sherlock and John ran back to sit on the bed; heads bowed and hands clasped together. As if they were praying, Mycroft mused. Little devils.

"Sherlock, this are private. What are you doing with them?" He scolded, like any good brother would.

"We wanted to look at boys--"

"--And girls!--" John piped up.

"--For an experiment!" Sherlock finished.

Nodding his head and attempting a pout that could make even Belzebub himself seem innocent.

"First of all," Mycroft muttered as he hid the magazines again, "there's only men in those magazines. And they are mostly naked. You two wouldn't want to see that."

Sherlock and John looked at each other, cheeks flooding with colour.

"Secondly, you're not old enough."

Sherlock scoffed indignantly.

"And thirdly, " Mycroft turned to look at the boys, "Get. Out. Of. My. Room!"

John leapt up but Sherlock held his ground. Mycroft growled but gave up and flopped face first onto the bed.

"I-Isn't it your prom tonight?" John's voice could barely be heard amongst the mounting animosity within the room.

"He's not going." Sherlock announced smugly as he climbed onto Mycroft's back.

He sat down on him and posed as if he was some explorer being photographed at the peak of a mountain.

"Geoff--"

"Gregory--"

"--Lestroodle said no. And now Mycroft is dying of embarrassment!"

In lieu of a reply, Mycroft buried his face further in his arms.

"Sherlock! " John childed and Sherlock actually looked pitiful for one split second.

"Why not go on your own?"

Mycroft made a noise that sounded vaguely like a dying whale.

He couldn't go on his own because Greg would be there. Greg would be dancing with Molly. Greg would be smiling at her. Greg would be watching her with a loving gaze.

Although, Mycroft smirked, perhaps... No. He couldn't. Could he?

"John, don't be silly. The orangatan would look ridiculous! Besides, he won't fit in his tux!"

Sherlock leapt from Mycroft's back. He landed with a soft 'offta' on the floor and took John's hand.

"Let's go John. He'll just eat his weight in jelly babies and cry over Doctor What."

"It's Doctor Who" John told him.

"Doctor, who?" Sherlock said, confused.

"Exactly." John smirked.

Mycroft threw a pillow at them and finally the two boys left. Giggling, hand in hand as they ran away.

Mycroft got up and went to his wardrobe, pulling out the black tux with matching dickie bow.

Perhaps... he thought.

 

{oOo}

 

"And a one, two, the-"

Molly counted the steps out loud as she and Greg danced.

Greg, however, was busy starting at the open stairs where one, Mycroft Holmes was stood.

"God. He's beautiful, " Greg murmured. In that moment it seemed like everything seemed to stop.

Molly stumbled over his feet but Greg didn't care. He let go of her hands and wandered through the masses of dancing couples.

"Greg-!" Molly called after him in her squeaky voice.

"My," Greg purred.

Mycroft slowly made his way down the steps; his hand delicately brushing down the banister of the stairs. He stopped on the step just above Greg, graceful smile in place.

"Gregory, why have you left your date? "

"My, why did you leave school? " Greg countered, cheeky smile on his lips as he held out his hand.

"May I have this dance?"

"Of course."

That is how the two of them spent the rest of the night.

Tangled together, swaying to the music.

Greg hummed along to the song, lips brushing Mycroft's ear.

Mycroft couldn't help but smile.

He allowed his eyes to close so that he could memorize this moment forever.


End file.
